


Memoirs of a Blade

by IWillScreamIntoTheAbyss



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: at least i think thats the name of morags dad, i guess this could be a nia characther study, spoilers for chapter 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 05:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13756860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWillScreamIntoTheAbyss/pseuds/IWillScreamIntoTheAbyss
Summary: "The unfortunate reality of it all is that us Blades are forgotten. The names of our Drivers might be remembered, but ours won’t be. Common Blade or no, we’ll all fade from memory sooner or later."





	Memoirs of a Blade

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't finished the segment in the Spirit Crucible Elpys, turn back now.

I’ve had many names in this life and probably in previous ones. In this life, there’s three people will say to my face and likely countless more that they won’t. 

The Special Inquisitor’s Blade.

The Healing Wave.

Nia. 

I was awakened after my driver became Special Inquisitor and I’ve been with him for more than 10 years. I was there when he got married. When his wife gave birth to his daughter. His wife tells me I’m part of the family at this point. 

I have my own chambers and bed, I don’t have to share it with the other Blades that live in the palace. I’ve learnt to ignore their looks when I pass. Sometimes I’ll bring some back to my rooms for the night. Sometimes I don’t. The palace staff don’t seem to care about us Blades as long as we don’t cause any permanent damage. Or any damage at all, really. 

Sometimes, a distraught Blade will come to me in the middle of the night. 

“Sakuya’s gone.” 

“Jinryuu went back to his core during the night.” 

“Nadeshiko’s disappeared.”

When soldiers die, so do their Blades. It’s the way of life. 

The soldiers are given a funeral. The core crystals left behind are usually tossed in a pile of other unawakened cores. If it was a particularly powerful Blade, it might be enshrined, but I've only seen that happen once. It was a dark-type blade named Kassandra. I like to think I was good friends with her. If I ever mention her to any others, some will recognise the name, but most don’t. Even those who knew her Driver. 

The unfortunate reality of it all is that us Blades are forgotten. The names of our Drivers might be remembered, but ours won’t be. Common Blade or no, we’ll all fade from memory sooner or later. 

Some Blades might manage to enter culture, like how every Ardainian has heard the stories of the Jewel of Mor Ardain. She’s the only I can think of. She apparently has some old diaries hidden in the palace, but I’ve never seen them. 

Diaries are fairly common in the Blade barracks, I’ve noticed. Nadeshiko once told me it was to have a chance to remember. 

“Even if I don’t remember this life when I’m reawakened, maybe I’ll find this and I’ll remember,” she’d said. “Or maybe someone will find this and read it and remember me, even if they never knew me in this life.”

I was newly awakened at the time and didn’t really understand. A Blade, by definition, can’t leave a mark upon this world. They die along with their Drivers, losing all of their memories in the process. A core crystal can’t protect a diary. The chances of the core staying with it are infinitely small. 

After Nadeshiko died, I saw someone throw her diary into a fire. 

Only the Jewel of Mor Ardain is worthy of keeping a diary. Even Aegaeon and I don’t have one, and we’ve been in the Imperial family for at least as long as she has. Or maybe I do have one somewhere, but it’s been forgotten. Or burned. 

A few years ago, my Driver gave me a diary to write in. It’s been sitting on my shelf since then. I never saw the point. 

I still don’t, in a way.

But my Driver’s wife is dying and there’s nothing I can do for her. I’m a healing Blade, known as the Healing Wave and I can’t do anything for the most valuable person in my Driver’s life. He says he doesn’t blame me, and I can tell he’s telling the truth. The tips of his ears turn red when he lies. 

All I can do is sit here uselessly and hope she makes it. Might as well write while I wait. 

I once asked Nadeshiko what she wrote in the first place. 

“Anything that comes to mind. Fun or unusual things that happened today.”

In the past 13 years, a lot of things that qualify as those happened. 

When I’d known him for only two years, tensions were at an all time high with Uraya. It was too dangerous for the Emperor to try, so Eandrig tried to awaken the Jewel of Mor Ardain. If I hadn’t been there, he would have died. 

He was unconscious for two days and it took him weeks to recover from his burns. I think that was when he first saw me as important. That’s what I like to think, anyway. 

We’ve been fighting together, side-by-side, ever since. I’ve got his back and I’ll heal him until I can’t anymore. 

I looked through the archives awhile back. I was helping Aegaeon with something, but I don’t quite remember what it was. I do remember seeing the mandate of previous Special Inquisitor. Most of them don’t live as long as the Emperor they served. It’s a job that comes with many risks. If they do make it, they eventually become Grand Marshal or fade into obscurity. 

I know in my gut that Eandrig will be part of the former category. I don’t know why, but I just do. I’ll look at him playing with his tiny little daughter and think; “he won’t get to see Mòrag grow up. She’ll grow up without a father.”

I want to believe that he will see Mòrag grow up, and that I will too. But I can’t. 

Eandrig is on the battlefield almost everyday. It’s only a matter of time until I can’t block in time, or that he runs out of my range, or that I can’t heal him on time, or that his wound is a fatal one. 

I don’t look forward to that day and sincerely hope it never happens. 

…  
..  
.  
..  
…

It’s been a few weeks since my rant last time. I haven’t found anything interesting to write and I keep forgetting this damn thing exists. 

Eandrig’s wife didn’t make it. She fought hard but in the end, whatever illness had taken her won. I held Mòrag while her mother was given the funeral of a member of the Imperial family. 

The poor thing doesn’t understand she just lost her mother. She’s barely eight months old. At least she’s young enough that she won’t remember. 

Forgetting is a blessing, apparently.

…  
..  
.  
..  
…

I’ve been watching over Mòrag a lot. Eandrig is busy and Mòrag is apparently too fussy when the nursemaids try to handle her. 

She’s really cute. 

She does get a little grabby when it comes to my hair though

I hope she doesn’t end up as stubborn as her father. 

…  
..  
.  
..  
…

We’re leaving for Gormott in a few hours. Something to do with a possible alliance with the country? I’m not sure, I spaced out during the meeting and didn’t pay too much attention. No one really care about a Blade’s opinion during meetings like those. 

I don’t have anything to pack, so I'm just waiting for Eandrig to be done. Maybe I’ll go by Mòrag’s nursery before leaving. 

We’ll be back in a few weeks. It’s purely political stuff; there shouldn’t be any fighting. I’m just coming along for general protection in case something goes terribly wrong.

I hope nothing goes wrong. 

…..  
….  
…  
..  
.  
..  
…  
….  
…..

Nia and Dromarch had stopped by the bookstore in Alba Cavanich. The store keeper barely spoke, but that was alright. 

The shelves were lined with books upon books. She wandered for a long while. 

The spine of a book caught her attention. It looked like it had a core crystal on it. Curious, she picked it up. 

**Memoirs of a Blade**

She just stared at the cover. At the center, there was a core crystal on the chest of a Blade, though its face and body were obscured by shadow. 

She bought it immediately. 

She held it close for the rest of the day, though she didn't open it until she was back at the inn. Poppi was still running around town with Tora while Pyra was Architect knows where, so she had some time alone. 

Dromarch sat next to her on the bed. 

She read the first page. 

_This memoir a compilation of multiple entries from writings of Blades that have been recovered. To keep authenticity, no names have been altered. All entries from a single Blade have been put in what is hopefully chronological order._

There must have been hundreds of entries from almost as many Blades. 

The fact that someone had taken time to sort and make sense of these entries. That someone had cared enough. 

She dried her eyes before turning to the final set of entries. 

_The following writings were all from a single Blade, who once worked with Eandrig Ladair, a Special Inquisitor. The writings were found in her old rooms in Hardheigh Palace and kept safe by a Blade who doesn’t wish to be named._

Before Nia could even wonder to become who it could possibly be, she read the first line of the next page. The handwriting was familiar.

> I’ve had many names in this life and probably in previous ones. In this life, there’s three people will say to my face and likely countless more they won’t say to my face. 
> 
> The Special Inquisitor’s Blade.
> 
> The Healing Wave.
> 
> Nia. 

Nia. 

_Nia._

A healing, water type blade named Nia, powerful enough to be worthy of a Special Inquisitor. If the book hadn’t been on her lap, she would have dropped it. 

She felt dizzy. 

She kept reading. 

The book ended on her previous life. The rest of the pages were blank. 

Before those pages, there was one with a single line. 

_For all silenced Blades, that they may one day find their voice._


End file.
